Handful Of Henna: Tobacco Factory

With a swirl of a sari and the swish of a dazzling silk shawl, Rani Moorthy's Handful Of Henna sweeps us into the mindset of women caught between two worlds. The earthiness of an indigo India and the greyness of northern England.

The cast of four women scratched away the stories of various aunts, sisters, grannies and daughters, with a particular focus on one mother and daughter's journey. From England, stroppy teenager Nasreen and her downtrodden mum Saheeda set off for a holiday to revisit their roots in the sub-continent.

Directed with great energy by Karen Simpson the main narrative was the story of the mum's childhood, that of an unwanted girl loaned out to relatives and quickly married off into a loveless relationship. Emotive Bharti Patel as the Yorkshire-Asian mother was desperate to explain her past and background to her feisty all-English daughter played with an unrestrained hormonally-charged anger by Rochi Rampal. The contrast of cultures worked with huge humour: Rochi was horrified at the thought of donkeys for transport and the sight of aunts who squat down in the street to relieve themselves.

The packed ethnically mixed audience continually identified with phrases and sayings which were the verbal currency of the aunts in India. "I'm an old woman, I can do anything I like," quipped Auntie Munah (a versatile Nimmi Harasgama).

Using dance, music and physical theatre, the four females worked their salwars and jeans off in a vibrant performance based on the true stories of women in Sheffield scripted by Moorthy. Indeed, Sohm Kapila as Alia seemed to encapsulate the entire Indian sub-continent on her own with her sensuous movement, flashing eyes and sense of fun. It was a celebration of the human spirit that through sisterly love, the emotional bonds of mother and daughter, and the community of extended families can overcome life's disasters and disappointments. With a handful of henna, a drop of lemon juice, all can be conquered.

8/10

HARRY MOTTRAM